Then he stood up and hailed a fiacre. "Egad!" exclaimed Wood, "you've hit the right nail on the head, anyhow. His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself. ‘Civilian peace-keeping forces, you know. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. I think she might be up to something. Neither of them joined in the applause which followed upon her exit. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony.
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